Tie my dreams upon a string, lift my arms high in hopes that they will sing…
All right, down to the brass and tacks for those who have been asking: Kipling is doing just fine. The massive smile on Claire’s face on Monday night at the check-up said it all but she exclaimed, “Bravo!” Even though the drain had popped out on Sunday (!), it had done its job. So with a snip came the end of the stitches and the cone was banished to the back of the closet. None to soon for Mr. Ben who was getting mighty tired of being chased around with it, I can tell you. So see that leftover Valentine above that seems to thump in the twilight? It is. Good news is good news.
And yet I am seeking patience. It is dead quiet in these parts. Just take a look at the neighbourhood kids who have set up in the middle of the Place du Forum. Might as well. Nearly all of the cafés are closed with the owners sunning themselves in the Seychelles. With Kipling recovering, we have not been able to dive into our normal discoveries and are quite Arles-bound for the moment.
In the meantime, I hope that you will be patient with me. And I will try to not overwhelm those of you that are not as animal-oriented while we welcome a new member to our family, an understandably important event.
I am asking patience of me too. That me sitting worrying in the near dark in the photo above. How I want all to be running so smoothly but what an unrealistic wish. There are too many variables up in the air.
It will all happen with time, that same that builds and tears down and puts up again.
Patience. It is required in negotiating and there is a lot of that going on right now in this household that even with a joyous addition feels topsy-turvy like the sea.
I need to be more quiet and just see and breathe. I am trying.
And doing…
…but what a masculine household this has suddenly become!
Well, I have my flowers and multi-fold sweetness just not when expected, not to mention the joy of discovering a new being. That too requires patience, especially in this delicate circumstance but it will be rewarded ten-fold.
Wishing you all well. So grateful you are here.
Thank you so much Penelope. You really make my day with your support and enthusiasm. It truly encourages me to keep going. I was thinking of you on my walk with the boys tonight–I saw a gorgeous patina and thought, "Penny would love that." I'll try to go back with my camera–but even that isn't easy as I have to learn how to take photographs while walking two dogs! Luckily (and I do know how fortunate I am), Kipling is a true dream on the leash. I don't know who trained him previously but he practically walks himself!
Promise to bring more of everything and to keep my perspective straight!
xo,
H
YOU and I share the same thing!We are surrounded by the BOYS!
It is always unnerving to comment after David who articulates thoughts and feelings so beautifully, but I must add that I've been feeling that same restless, unsettled way as well. Perhaps it is the season – both calendar and metaphorically-speaking – who knows? I purchased a small notebook at the start of the year, so small that it fits in the palm of my hand. Each night I enter into it a sentence, or two, about the day and a word to summarize the way I think I responded to it. . .it's a travel journal of a different kind I guess. It will be fun to see where the year takes me.
P.S. I should clarify (having spoken loosely and realizing that I can't seem to edit what I've just "published"))….Dominique wouldn't/probably "hate it" if she saw that I'd just used her name and book…..she'd probably be glad that I just gave the gift of her writing/tastes to other folks.
—david terry
Oh, Heather….first of all? what lovely, intitial responses. you do have good and kind readers.
Here are few gifts for you, today (from a former skool-teacher):
"The gloom of the world is but a shadow;
behind it, yet within our reach, is joy.
Take joy."
—-Fra Giovanni Giocondo
"It's more real to me here than if I went up," he suddenly heard himself say; and the fear lest that last shadow of reality should lose its edge kept him rooted to his seat as the minutes succeeded each other."
—Edith Wharton, "the Age of Innocence"
"Create in me a clean heart"
—Psalm 51:10
"The Uses of Sorrow"
"(in my sleep I dreamed this poem)
Someone I loved once gave me
a box full of darkness.
It took me years to understand
that this,too, was a gift."
—Mary Oliver
and, Heather?…..before you congratulate me on my exquisitely-trained literary tastes and knowledge (I do, after all, have five degrees in this stuff), I should emphasize that those are the four quotations Dominique Browning chose for the sections of her wonderous book "Slow Love Life".
I'm re-reading the book this week (got problems of my own, and I need to address them). I first received the book, as I do many others, as a review copy…and I liked it loads and giddily skipped through it, without ever really/sincerely considering that the words might ever apply to me/my life/my marriage, etcetera.
I hope these quotations provide some thought and comfort for you. They did for me….just yesterday, to be quite honest. Dominique's a smart and hard-working woman. The aspect of her essays/writing that I most admire is her ability to accept that (and contrary to all the self-help books that tell you all about to "achieve your goals once you define them") she knows that the goalpost is always changing and shifting. It feels unfair to most of us, but it's simply the case.
I know she'd hate it (and probably bristle a bit) if she heard that I was saying this about her on your blog (I've never asked if she reads it).
that said?…..
fondly, and best wishes to you and all of us, I suppose,
david terry
http://www.avidterryart.com
As Leslie says, you have captured this late winter feeling exactly — the waiting for spring, the patience needed to power through big changes until a routine is negotiated. Where I live, patience is tough to maintain when housebound by snow. I fear another storm is on the way, making our daily walks and other routine errands more difficult. I'll be hunkering down with books and knitting this weekend.
I wonder, how many snowflakes can my camera handle? Sometimes it is quite pretty, but also quite wet. Thinking of you during this quiet time. Deep breaths, being still, and just listening and, as Robin says, enjoying the small sights and sounds — fodder for future posts, I suspect!
I really am loving your posts Heather, thanks xxx
I'm usually the most patient person in the world but not now. As much as I love seeing your photos, and you're becoming a wonderful photographer, I still want to see the "men". I'm so happy for you all that Kip is making a full recovery. It would be nice to see Kip without his bandage.
XXX
Debra~
Patience is one of the most precious virtues !!
My father always said to me : 'In life,you need courage and patience!'
xx
Greet
PS Gorgeous pictures Heather!
Hello Heather:
There are times in life when to pause is so very necessary, to reflect on what has been and to imagine what is to come. From all that you write here, accompanied as always with the most evocative images, we suspect you are currently at that point. The welcome addition to the household of Kipling will, inevitably, make further demands on you but we know, without a shadow of doubt, that you will succeed and that, given time, the path ahead will become smoother. Always in our thoughts.